Love is blind, but Sam isn't
by TheFlyingPieCompany
Summary: Dean is in denial, Sam is in his head, and Castiel is just confused. Moral of the story: Never get in the way of a witch's ship. (Destiel, DeanxCastiel) Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

Sam checked his watch for what must have been the seventh time. 10:50pm. A whole twenty minutes had gone by and still not a whisker of the man who said he'd be there at half past.

Sam peered through the gathering darkness at the people who were still wandering round at this time; hoping to catch a glimpse of the (very late) mystery man.

His eyes alighted on group of teens sauntering over the bridge where Sam was sat. He narrowed his eyes. They seemed to be giggling. At him? Sam realised that he looked to all the world as if he had been stood up. He cast an angry glare at the streetlight which was currently illuminating his obvious state of loneliness on a love-seat clearly meant for two.

It wasn't like he would be able to be in a relationship with anyone anyway, he thought bitterly. Everyone he got close to usually didn't last very long. It wasn't something he could ever get over, but he had resolved to never let it happen again.

He checked his watch again. 10:45pm.

Maybe it was a trap. It probably was a trap. Especially considering the man on the phone refused to tell him who he was, only saying that "I'm a friend who knows something. Meet me on the bridge at 10:30, Friday night."

Oh it was definitely a trap.

Sam groaned at the obviousness of the plot that had plainly been fabricated to result in his capture... _Or death_ he contemplated morbidly.

How could he have been so **_stupid_**?

Dean didn't know where he was. Bobby didn't know where he was. Even the Angels didn't know where he was. He was screwed.

Maybe those teenagers had been demons. Maybe his exit from the bridge was completely blocked off from both sides. In fact, scratch 'maybe'; try 'doubtlessly'. Knowing Sam's luck, he'd never get out of here completely intact.

He was wondering if there were any demons swimming around in the water (and if he could possibly survive the drop) when he heard a distinctive clearing of the throat from behind him.

He whirled around to confront whatever had decided to try and coerce him into doing something almost definitely completely against his will when he was met by a startlingly familiar face.

A face he'd beaten at poker.

A face that had held Dean's life.

A face that he desperately wanted to smack.

He didn't.

"You!?" Sam spluttered through his embarrassingly slack jaw, staring at the Irish witch stood in front of him.

"Yes Sam. Missed me? I must say that I'm still rather impressed with that game you played. 300 years and nobody's beat me quite as well as that..."

"Yeah yeah, cut to the point! Why are you here?"

"It's about Dean."

_Don't tell me he challenged you at poker again? _Sam thought despairingly._ Oh god, what if he's been a dick?_

"What's he done this time? Pissed someone off?"

"Please. Dean pisses almost everyone and everything off." Lilted the witch in his Irish accent.

"No, this is about something else."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"All in good time, Sammy. Now, in a few minutes something is going to happen that you may not be entirely happy with..."

"You know, when anyone says something like that, it is always a hundred times worst than it sounds. And it sounds pretty crappy already."

"It won't be permanent, don't worry, it will just last as long as it takes for Dean to realize."

"Realize _what_?! And **_what_** will last as long as it takes?!"

"Patience is a virtue Sam. As you know I'm actually quite a nice guy-"

Sam snorted at that.

"Watch it, or you'll find yourself with something a lot worse than the clap."

Sam shut up.

"As I was saying, I'm actually quite a nice guy and as such, I've decided to make Dean face up to something that he's been ignoring for too long..."

"That doesn't sound particularly 'nice'." Sam's hands made air quotes around the last word. "And you still haven't told me what in hell's name it is that you're going to do to me!" Sam was becoming increasingly frustrated with the witch and his petulant persistence in sidestepping every question Sam threw at him. "And what does Dean need to face up to?! What do you want me to do?! I'm not your little manservant! I can walk away right now! You don't have any years of mine that you can barter with! So tell me. Why should I stay here and listen to you babble leprochaunish riddles and suicidal plans just so Dean can have some sort of zen-like revelation?! Tell me THAT!"

Sam was breathing heavily when the witch replied:

"Because I'll even take you to the hospital."

"Wha-I-AAARRRGGGHHHHH" Sam suddenly had the most excruciating sensation that his head was being split apart like an egg at the hands of an inexperienced cook. Through the haze of pain he received a blurry glimpse of the pointed Irish face and managed to catch: "Sorry I had to do this Sam..." as if from a badly tuned radio station, before he slipped into the untroubled waters of total darkness.

* * *

Sam awoke with a jolt. He wasn't sure how long he'd been out for, but the room still appeared the same as the room he'd been staying in before going to meet the witch, so he figured only a couple of hours at most.

Sam shut his eyes again. What disconcerted him was how _normal_ everything was... He didn't feel too odd, nor was he in some weird location in the middle of nowhere... Actually, finding himself in the hotel room where they were staying was a little strange...

Especially as the witch had explicitly stated that Sam was to be taken to a hospital.

Opening a single eye, Sam looked at the room again, fully expecting it to be white walls and rows of beds with crinkly sheets.

No. The hotel room was still there. It was only when Sam sat up on the springy mattress and looked at the room as a whole that he realised that there was something _very_ wrong with the picture. Dean and Cas were sat together on the couch. That wasn't what was unusual. What _was _unusual was the fact that Dean's shirt had somehow been mislaid and Castiel was currently in the process of exploiting this state of undress by running his hands across Dean's midriff. Sam watched, paralysed with shock as Cas replaced his hands with his tongue, which elicited some highly unholy sounding noises from Dean, and a sickened squeak from Sam, who then proceeded to regain both his voice and a vague degree of composure.

He cleared his throat loudly.

The two entwined men didn't appear to have heard and Sam noticed that Dean was now attempting to remove the Angel's suit jacket. The trench coat was already crumpled in a beige heap on the floor.

Just breathe Sam. He thought to himself, fighting to remain calm through the scene that was becoming increasingly sexual by the minute.

"Um, guys?" No response other than the crinkle of the dinner jacket as it hit the floor.

"Guys! _Guys_! I am right here! Now I am completely _FINE_with whatever it is that you two might have between you, just please, _PLEASE_! Think to tell me when you're going to engage in this kind of activity so I can go fill up the impala or do something useful that gets me out of the way of you two! No matter what you might think, I do not appreciate waking up to gay porn at the end of my bed!"

"Sam?" Dean had temporarily stopped in his worship of the angel and was looking at Sam as if he had three extra heads. Maybe he did. After all, who knew what that witch had done to him?

"Yes Dean. SAM. You know, that guy who just so happens to be your brother."

"But you're not supposed to be here."

"What do you mean; 'I'm not supposed to be here', I get it that you and Cas want some alone time but hey, I must have missed that memo."

"No no. I don't-I mean-urgh"

"Wow Dean. Eloquent."

"Shut up Sam!"

"Excuse me? I'm the one being woken up by-" Sam gestured wildly with his hands "-_that_, and you're telling me to 'shut up'?!"

"It's not my fault you're here Sam! I don't know what you're doing here but get out!"

"This is our hotel room!"

Dean huffed out a breath and started pulling on his shirt. Cas seemed to have disappeared.

"You really don't get it Sammy do you?"

"Get what?!"

"This is my dream Sam! Get out of it!"


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys!

Welcome to chapter 2! (I will probably come up with names for the chapters at some point, but for now they will have to be horribly un-creative :/)

Thanks to the three people who thought my story was good enough to follow! You are awesome!

**Warnings:** A little bit of language. Nothing too major though. ;)

P.s. Please review! It makes me happy and encourages me to update faster!

* * *

Dean

"Nnnghh" groaned Dean, rolling over onto his side.

That was a weird dream.

He'd had dreams about Cas before, and, although kinda freaky the first few times, he'd learned to live with them. Usually he found them to be indicative that he hadn't had enough sex recently. It wasn't something he really needed to question anymore... He figured that since his life was fucked up, his brain was most probably fucked up, which really left no possible hope for his dreams to be sane... Maybe it was a little weird dreaming about your guardian angel tracing your torso with his tongue, but hey, weirder things have happened in real life.

_It doesn't mean anything._

Dean reflected back idly on the more…_interesting _aspects of the dream. Imaginary Cas was certainly _good_, Dean would give him that. Even if Dean didn't swing that way himself.

He snuggled himself further down under the thin hotel sheet, attempting to take his mind off his dream and deciding to find a pretty blond woman in a bar sometime later today. That would stop those crazy dreams. Hopefully.

He let his mind wander some more.

_I haven't had pie in ages! _Dean stared in horror at his stomach as he realised how long he had gone without the one thing that made trying to stop the apocalypse a little less unbearable. _What shall I do? This is an abomination!_

He blamed Sam of course. No matter how much he might love his little brother, Sam never truly understood the importance of pie. Dean would say he wanted pie, and what did Sam do? Come back with cake. CAKE! It was disgraceful!

_Maybe I'll ask Cas...Cas never forgets the pie._

The thought of Cas sent his mind shrieking back to the dream he had had, and Dean resigned himself listening to his brain telling him exactly 'how amazing' Cas had been.

He sighed.

However, instead of his brain following the usual pattern of: 'Re-watch dream about Cas, fantasize about Cas, repeat', his brain flickered straight to the distinguishing feature of this particular dream. Sam.

Now, _that_ was weird (not quite as weird as removing a blue-eyed angel's trenchcoat and dinner jacket, but close). The fact that SAM was there... That NEVER happened... EVER. Especially as Sam wasn't even IN the hotel last night...

Dean sat up. Not here this morning either.

_Uhh, please say I don't have to save his ass from a creature/ghost/demon/himself-delete as applicable_, he mentally groaned to himself.

"I can hear you, you know"

Dean leapt about two feet into the air.

"Sam what the hell?!"

This morning was progressively getting weirder and weirder... Dean could be sure that he hadn't spoken aloud... Then again, he had been running on almost no sleep for a while. Maybe it was finally starting to take its toll.

Dean looked around. _Where is that crazy-little-brother-turned-mind-reader anyway?_

"I don't know Dean. I was hoping you could tell me actually. I don't seem to be that much in control of wherever I am..."

_Ok, that was more than a little creepy… Sleep loss. It must be. _"Don't tell me this is gonna be a repeat of the impala/Gabriel incident. I swear some checked shirt is still rattling around inside that car and I could really do without finding your hair in my cup of morning coffee or something equally disgusting..." Dean paused. "Wait. Please say that you aren't actually the coffee pot."

"I dunno Dean. Maybe try making a cup of coffee? I'll tell you if I feel anything."

"Yeah, well I'm sure you'll feel it if hot water comes pouring out your ass."

Dean moved towards the coffee pot.

"Shit. Shit shit shit. Er, Dean?"

"What now? Realised that you aren't the coffee pot and are in fact one of the bedside lamps? Or that you just don't fancy the idea of being a morning beverage?"

"No Dean. Quite a lot worse than that actually."

"Hit me with it. Can't be worse than starting the apocalypse, right?"

"I thought you said you let that go!"

"Whatever man, just tell me what piece of shit we've got to deal with next."

"Dean, there's no easy way to say this but... I think I'm inside your head."

* * *

Sam

There was a deafening silence.

_Why does all the crap hit us? Why does all the crap hit ME?! What if he looks through all the thoughts I've ever had? What if that was actually him in my dream?! _

"Uh, yeah actually that was me." Sam interjected.

"Aaaarrgghhhhh!"

"Sorry Dean. But it wasn't all that pleasant for me to actually have to WATCH. I mean, I literally _can't_ escape, and I sooo did not need to see my brother making out with someone. Someone who, as far as I was aware, was _just a friend_."

Contrary to the onslaught of slander Sam thought he was going to receive from Dean (or at least from his mind) Dean's thoughts were surprisingly blank. Usually they'd appear in front of Sam as if they were being passed through a crappy old projector. But the screen now looked as if someone was covering the lens with a finger.

"Dean?"

Sam then noticed something peculiar. The space where the witch had landed him (presumably somewhere in Dean's brain) was beginning to feel rather warm. Not like scary-old-lady-come-wicked-witch-just-shoved-me-in -an-oven warm.

More like... Sam tried to think.

More like the heat you got when someone says something you're uncomfortable with... The heat of a blush.

"Dean, are you _blushing_?!"

Thoughts started flickering onto the screen again as Dean vehemently denied any 'blushing, flushing or heating of the cheeks in any form.'

Sam tried hard to keep up with the thoughts that kept streaming through Dean's mind.

_He's going to think you like Cas._

_But I don't like Cas!_

_He's going to think that._

_Admit it, dreaming about Cas is more than a little weird._

_Maybe you should see a doctor._

_Yeah, that turned out sooo well the last time._

_Maybe he could sort out Sam._

_Hey doctor, my brother's taken residence in my head, can you get him out please._

_One way trip to loony land._

_Keep having dreams about Cas and that's your final destination._

_He still thinks you like Cas._

_What if he's reading your thoughts?_

"Bingo." Sam couldn't resist.

"Ok, Sam. Let me just get something straight-"

"Straight, Dean? I can assure you, there is nothing 'straight' about you and Cas..."

"I DON'T LIKE CAS GODDAMNIT!"

"Oh really? That's just why you have erotic dreams about him right?"

"Just **_SHUT UP _**Samantha! You're not the one having _your own HEAD_ invaded by your younger brother, who also happens to not have a bollocking _clue_ what he's talking about AND HEY, just to add the icing to the cake, always forgets the goddamn pie! THE WAY I SEE IT, YOU ARE IN NO POSITION TO MAKE ASSUMPTIONS HERE!"

A soft fluttering of wings interrupted Dean's tirade and made Dean whirl around.

"Err Dean? Why are you shouting?"


	3. Chapter 3

Hi guys!

Firstly, I just want to say a massive HUMONGOUS thanks to everyone who followed, reviewed and even FAVORITED this story! You are honestly the best people ever!

Secondly, I want to apologise for taking so long with this chapter and the fact that its even shorter than chapter 2. :(

Thirdly, please excuse any errors that are in this piece of work, if it really bothers you, put it in the comments and I should get round to sorting it out :)

Enjoy chapter 3! (Again, a HUGE thanks to everyone who has supported this story so far!)

* * *

"Err Dean? Why are you shouting?"

"Ugh…"

_"Tell him!"_

_Shut UP Sam!_

"It's just something humans do when they get, umm…stressed, and err- stuff" Dean finished lamely.

"Oh." Said Cas.

Dean looked at Cas. Cas looked at Dean. From where Sam was sat, he could tell that Dean was replaying his erotic Cas-dream on the little thought screen in front of Sam. It was like hiss very own crackly TV, complete with two _fascinating_ channels; The Dean show and porn. Urgh.

Sam couldn't tell what Cas was thinking but from the staring contest that was showing up as intermissions on his little brain-screen, he was probably mentally undressing Dean.

_"He's mentally undressing you." _Sam loudly proclaimed inside Dean's head.

The room where Sam was sat got warm again very quickly and seemed to be changing colour. Red.

_Hmmm, fetching. _Sam thought. _Wonder what's up with Dean to get it to that exact crimson blood shade?_

_"Are you blushing again Dean?" _Sam asked._ "And why is your brain room red?"_

_Oh, I don't know Sam? Possibly because it's subconsciously telling me to redecorate using your blood as wallpaper?_

_"Now that's not very nice Dean." _Sam paused. Dean's mind appeared to be elsewhere._ "Not still eye-fucking Cas are we?" _He grinned.

_You know what Samantha? Why don't you go and check into another part of my brain? You know, the one that controls the bowel functions or something. Cause I literally don't think I can take a single __**second**__ more of you flicking through my thoughts without __**literally**__ tearing my own brain out!_

_I've already told you Dean! I can't leave this place! Wait…maybe I CAN._

Dean waited a few seconds (he may or may not have been staring at Cas) and then heard a muffled 'shit!' and a few clunking sounds coming from inside his head and silently dreaded the state his head would be in once Sam was done trashing it.

_WOAH! Man, this is awesome! I think I'm in, like, the control centre or something! I've got your eyes, ears, nose, hands, everything!_

_Wait, wait, WHAT! Control centre?! Like, you can control me now?_

A few more clunking sounds and what sounded like a smash, before Sam said: _Awww damnit! Looks like that's a no man._

Dean let out a breath that he hadn't even realised he'd been holding.

"Dean are you alright?" Cas asked.

The breath was almost immediately sucked in again and was accompanied by an involuntary leap into the air.

"Ugh, yes yes! I'm fine! Just a-a headache."

_Maybe this is just a headache. Or a dream. Yes, that's it. A horribly perverted dream which I'm going to wake up from any second._

_"Yeah Dean, you wish."_

_You're just a figment of my imagination Sammy._

_"Whatever Mr. nightmare man."_

"Can I get you anything?" Cas had his head tilted to one side.

"I think I just need to be alone for a bit Cas."

"Oh. Ok Dean."

Cas sounded hurt and Dean immediately regretted using such a harsh tone. It wasn't the angel's fault that Sam was driving him round the bend.

"No, wait Cas! I-um..." He reached out and tugged on the angel's shoulder before he had the chance to disappear.

_What was he supposed to say now?!_

_"Ask him to get you a pie."_

_What?! Why?_

_'Cas never forgets the pie' _Sam quoted, smirking.

Castiel had turned back to look at Dean and obviously expected him to say something.

"I-sorry Cas. It's not your fault. You can stay if you like." Dean apologized.

"It's fine Dean, really." Cas replied. "I was only coming to check on you and…where's Sam?"

Sam didn't know whether to feel put out, or amused. On the one hand, Cas didn't notice that Sam was missing until he looked around the hotel room. On the other, this probably meant that he was so entirely focused on Dean that mundane things (i.e. a 6' 4" man) paled in comparison.

Actually, he didn't feel amused. He felt weirded out. Cas was almost certainly hitting on Dean. Dean was almost definitely hitting on Cas. Sam had had no clue whatsoever.

For a smart guy, he felt _incredibly_ stupid.

When he thought about it, the signs were everywhere really.

Cas came when _Dean_ called. Not Sam, not Bobby. ALWAYS Dean.

The _profound bond _that they shared. Maybe it's a lot more '_profound'_ than Sam had originally thought.

The staring. Oh God the staring. The world could be falling apart (and was in fact, he reminded himself. Definitely not his proudest moment) and they'd still be staring at each other like they were the only things that mattered.

Sam wondered if he was becoming increasingly moronic.

_SAM! Where the Hell are you?_

_"Ugh…Here?"_

_No! Where are YOU? Your body or whatever. Where is it?!_

_"Oh! Err, Patrick said in a hospital, but I don't know where. You're not planning to burn it are you?!_

"He's in hospital. Our last case left him with a broken leg and he insisted that we take him there. Bit pathetic if you ask me."

Sam growled inside Dean's head.

"Should be out soon though."

This was more a prayer than an assurance on Dean's part, but Cas didn't know that.

"Do you want me to go and heal him for you?"

"NO! Errr… I mean, no. I think it will serve him right for being so careless" Dean improvised quickly.

_"Smooth Dean. Smooth."_

"SHUT UP!"

"But Dean, I didn't say anything, I… Maybe I should just go." Cas looked at the floor and scuffed his feet, before glancing back up at Dean.

_Shit._

"No Cas! I'm sorry! I didn't mean…! I mean, I thought…"

"See you around Dean. If you need me, I guess you can just stick your hands together and pray, right?" Spat the angel, angrily, casting blue eyes glistening with tears at the hunter's horrified face.

Dean reached out a hand to grab at Cas but he'd already gone. All that came away in his hand was a tiny iridescent black feather. It shimmered in Dean's palm before blazing up and slipping through Dean's fingers as nothing more than pale ash.


End file.
